holding hands
by Last of the Loneliness
Summary: Azula doesn't really understand romance.


**Just a bit of Azutara. I'm not too fond of posting microfics here (to me that's more the realm of Ao3 and tumblr), but here goes anyway.**

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"Why do you do that?"

They lay together in the darkness. Azula had been drifting off to sleep when she felt Katara's fingers slip into her own. Holding hands wasn't typical for them. Azula generally didn't like physical contact unless she initiated it. Katara tended to be the exception, but Azula still wasn't entirely comfortable when she felt the other woman's warm hand caress her face or rub gentle circles into her back. It wasn't that she disliked the touch, or that it hurt her. It just felt wrong.

"Do what?" Katara didn't unlace her fingers from Azula's, and the latter didn't pull away either.

"Hold my hand."

"Because I love you," Katara said, so quickly as to make it sound automatic. The answer didn't sit well with Azula. She shifted, glad that the shadow hid her face. She should try to fall asleep, but now that she was alert it was difficult to keep her eyes closed. The question bounced around her mind until it was burning to escape. She hated sounding foolish, admitting that there were things she didn't come close to understanding. The first had been hard enough to verbalize.

When it had been long enough that Katara might have fallen asleep, Azula finally spoke. "Romance isn't real." It was easier to say than the question she was dying to ask.

Katara's fingers were so very warm in her own. It was strange to think that there was another person connected to that arm, a person with her own life and her own ways of thinking. How could they be so different and yet both be human?

"...Why do you say that?" Katara said. Azula narrowed her eyes at a question that reminded her far too much of doctors and therapy and being locked in a cell.

"It's true," she snapped, before remembering who she was with. She closed her eyes and sighed, trying not to let her mind spiral away from her. Her grip on Katara's hand tightened until her fingers were a vise, but the waterbender didn't let go. She massaged Azula's palm gently.

"It's real to me. That's why I hold your hand."

"There's no point," Azula said, finally reaching what she really wanted to say, finally finding the words to express herself. "You never want anything in return."

"That's not love."

"Then _love_ isn't real," Azula said, bitterness running unchecked through her voice. "Gentleness is just a way to ease into roughness. Pleasure is...just a gateway to pain. Open yourself up too much, and someone will take everything you've shown them."

"Is that what he taught you?" Katara released Azula's hand. Her strong arms wrapped around the other woman. She could feel every rib; Azula was still unhealthily thin. It was easy for Katara to hold her, even if hugging Azula was like hugging a furnace. Azula didn't pull away, but Katara could feel her shaking. She pulled her closer, held her tighter.

"It's the truth," Azula said faintly. She was avoiding Katara's eyes. "I can count on one hand the people who have told me they loved me. My mother couldn't have cared less. You and Zuko destroyed me. At least my father was there."

"Ozai did things to you no parent should ever do to a child," Katara said vehemently. "I don't blame you for not believing in love after him. But when I say I love you, Azula, I mean it."

"He liked touching me too," Azula said.

Katara shook her head. "I don't want anything from you, Azula. When I hug you, when I hold your hand, it's not because I want to go any further. It's because you're beautiful, and I want you to understand that. I want you to know I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. I want you to feel safe and secure with me. I want you to be happy."

Azula hated this. There was intense pressure inside her, it felt, trying to force its way out. She didn't know what to make of the things that Katara said. She couldn't understand. She could only think of Ozai's dominating presence beside her and the way he said "I love you," all low and twisted and always part of a game.

"I want to go to sleep," she mumbled. Katara obligingly slid her arms away and rolled onto her back. Azula stared toward the ceiling, though she couldn't see it. She was intensely grateful for the darkness when she felt tears start to slip from her eyes.

A few minutes later, as sleep was starting to roll over her, she felt Katara's fingers slip into her hand once again.


End file.
